And Yet More...

There had been chances to catch Cocker in concert back in the seventies, but that was back in the days when he was drinking to what I’d label as excess, so I hadn't bothered. This show, given the substantial cleanup of the image, was quite polished (Chris Stainton on keyboards and a couple of other names I recognized) and while Cocker's voice was a little ragged, no one was inclined to complain.

The next few years didn't produce much in the way of out-of-town action as various factors, including the construction of the Little House of Concrete and the subsequent need to pay off a mortgage restricted the travel options, but soon after 'Er Indoors emerged on the scene news that Little Feat were booked to plat the Byron Bay Bluesfest meant that a major excursion was in the pipeline.

Actually, given the various factors involved, it would have been very easy to have bundled the whole thing into the too hard basket, but the pieces fell into place nicely and we found ourselves jetting southwards on Good Friday morning.

According to the Dragon Lady and various other onlookers, that was all due to Madam's influence, and to an extent they were right. Once we'd decided that we were going, she wasn't going to be deterred by a few complications, but those matters could have proved almost prohibitively expensive if a few other factors hadn't kicked in.

For a start we needed somewhere to stay. $500 got us a room in a three-bedroom townhouse. While we might have been able to find somewhere else, lack of camping gear meant that we were probably looking down the barrel of a thousand dollar plus accommodation bill, which could have been a deterring factor.

Sharing a unit with people you'd never met may give most people serious misgivings as well, but subsequent communications revealed the other occupants would only be needing their rooms for the Friday and Saturday nights since the plan was to hit the road Sunday evening to make their way to Sydney for Monday night's Feat show at the Metro.

In other words our $500 effectively got us a week in Byron and a three bedroom unit (mostly) to ourselves.

Transport between Brisbane and Byron was another issue that looked to be cause for concern until one of Madam's acquaintances chipped in with an offer to drive us down. The Flute Player likes driving, and has been known to travel vast distances at the slightest provocation so a couple of hours from Brisbane Airport to Byron was the equivalent of a Sunday afternoon stroll in the park.


B© Ian Hughes 2012